Ocean Take It
by Shamoosh
Summary: Her name isn't Zelda, no matter what anybody says, and they can talk to the business side of her sword if they're feeling chatty.  Tetra centric


Tetra may be a princess, but piracy got there first and there won't be any cuts of this particular loot; the ocean takes it all. Her name isn't Zelda, no matter what anybody says, and they can talk to the business side of her sword if they feel chatty. She's never met anyone named Zelda, never combined those particular letters before and the syllables are foreign in her mouth, so she guesses the ocean must've taken the name too, just like it took all of Hyrule, just like it took the old Hero (whatever his name was), just like it took the land and the Master Sword and Ganondorf and Link's boat-that-wasn't, the King.

Link…Link is a hero, yeah, no two ways about it. Link is a hero. But heroes aren't just for princesses. There are heroes in pirate stories, too, and sometimes the hero _is_ the pirate, but Tetra's having a tough time convincing this particular hero to join up full-time because apparently he's got some problem with stealing or something, she's not exactly clear on the details.

He doesn't have a boat, though, and supplies are good for another two weeks or so, so she's got time. She'll get him someday, doesn't have to be today. They might sail their separate ways at some point, but their winds will always cross. Pirate or not, they're tied together, ocean to sky, so she'll always have some of him. She'll take her captain's share and that'll be that.

Having him around all the time isn't as irritating as she thought it would be. He's a quiet sort, and helpful, and that magic wand of his is certainly beneficial to getting them where Tetra wants to go. He insists on stopping at Outset any time they're even vaguely in the area, but Aryll's a good sort of kid (maybe too good for Tetra's tastes) and his grandma's nice, although Tetra's pretty sure the old lady has no idea her honey-blond grandson has taken up with pirates.

Now Tetra doesn't think omitting information is lying—not that she has a problem with lying. Sometimes it's for the best, like not telling your sweet old worrywart grandma that you saved the kingdom, the old one and the potential new one, and that you had to kill somebody to do it.

She's been keeping an eye on Link, because offing a gang of moblins is one thing and shoving your sword through somebody's head is something else entire, but he seems to be doing alright. Nightmares, some nights, but she doesn't know a single person (not even Link's grandma) who doesn't have them, and what she hears through the wall that separates their bunks is mostly about dark hands that reach out of shadows to snatch and suffocate, not Ganondorf at all, but she remembers the way Link had stared at his left hand, even after the ocean had washed the blood away. So she keeps an eye on him.

She watches his skin slowly darken (it'll take months for him to get as sun-stained as she is, but he's no longer the baby-skinned landlubber that first stumbled around her ship), the sword-calluses on his palm turn to rope-calluses, the sun bleach his honey gold hair until it's almost as pale as hers. He wears a blue shirt with a crawfish print for no apparent reason.

It's a good look for him, she thinks. Much better than those dusty old Hero's clothes, ocean take 'em. He was so solemn when wearing them—she hadn't realized it until he'd finally put them away and then it was like a burden slid from his shoulders, like a clever breeze caught his feet and blew him light and cheery around the ship.

They're still searching for leads on a land to call a kingdom, scouring the islands for a chart or just a solid direction to head in. (The idea of just picking a star to seek their fortunes by is romantic and also astonishingly stupid—one'd be hard pressed to find somebody that cares less for romance than Tetra, and she personally knows the importance of a clear heading.) It's slow going. There's a rumor of land somewhere west, but the only evidence is a collection of old stories, and Tetra knows first-hand that unless you're in an incredibly uncomfortable dress shooting magical arrows at an ancient evil when you've never held a bow in your life, stories don't mean squat.

She hated that dress. In _her _kingdom, dresses will be banned. She tells Link of her decree and he mock-bows, all _of course, Your Highness, _and she slugs him a good one and considers giving him a dead arm when he just laughs. Ocean take him, he drives her crazy sometimes.

The ocean can take dresses and titles and dusty old clothes, too—she may end up scouring the seas for a land to call a kingdom, but Tetra is a pirate, first and foremost.

And Link may be a hero, but they're tied together, ocean to sky, so one way or another he'll just have to come along.


End file.
